I Need Answers !
by Halcris
Summary: This short story tidies up the un-answered questions that were annoying Cowley


**I Need Answers.!**

George Cowley, head of C.I.5, was not a happy man !

He needed the cases he dealt with to have complete and final closure. And this last one had not done so.

True, with the murder of Marcus Corelli, the disappearance of Don Frampton, and finally the unexpected death from a heart attack of Owen Malmerston, a huge and widespread criminal empire had collapsed. Many activities had been halted, and there was considerable confusion. No doubt, many parts would re-generate and start up again, as lesser villains seized their opportunity and moved in. There would certainly be a lot of work for the police and C.I.5 for some time to come

But several more immediate questions were 'bugging' the fiery Scot. And he would not be satisfied till at least some of them were answered.

Who had arranged Corelli's murder ?

What had become of Frampton, abducted from a C.I.5 'safe house' by an imposter, posing as one of his best men ?

Who was the clever imposter, who had impersonated Ray Doyle well enough to deceive two fellow agents. ?

Who had organised the 'snatch', and what had they done with Frampton ?

As yet there were no leads to answer any of these questions !

Cowley had called a 'briefing' of as many of his agents as he could assemble. He addressed the group very forcibly, and left them in no doubt about what was on his mind.

"I need answers !," he declared. "Go out and get them !"

Most of the listening agents groaned inwardly. When their feisty boss was in this kind of mood, there would be no respite from the endless enquiries that would be ordered.

But at least two of the listening agents were quite pleased to hear their boss's vehement determined words, namely Bodie and Doyle.

Not that they were that interested in the demise of Masterson's criminal empire. That would be dealt with gradually as different aspects of it came to light.

What really was of supreme interest to both of them was the as yet undiscovered identity of the man who had dared to impersonate Doyle, and had snatched Frampton from C.I.5, and got away with it.

Bodie wanted a chance to deal with the man who had had Doyle abducted and treated pretty roughly.

And Doyle wanted a look at the man, to see how much he did resemble him.

As they walked together down to their cars, Bodie gave voice to the question that his partner had been just about to put to him.

"Any ideas about where to start, mate ?," he queried.

"Well, one thought I had was that perhaps we could have another go at the Elsons, suggested Doyle.

The Elsons had been part of the gang that had grabbed Doyle and had stolen, to order, his car and other items, for the impersonator to use.

"Toby is a pretty tough nut," continued Doyle, "But Jim is the weak one and might be leant on. I have the strongest feeling that perhaps they do know more than they are letting on."

"Right," said Bodie, "Let's have a word with whoever picked them up this last time. They should be able to tell us where to find them."

"We will have to get Jim on his own somehow," said Doyle. "He's afraid of his big brother, and certainly won't talk if he's there."

"I'm sure we'll wangle that somehow," replied Bodie cheerfully. He was looking forward to some kind of action.

It all worked out well. They got an address, and arrived at the house in a rather run-down area, just as Jim Elson came out of the door.

Bodie leapt from the car, grabbed the startled man before he had the chance to try to run, and bundled him into the back of the car. He climbed in beside him, and gave him a glare.

He settled him against the back seat, and smoothed down his rumpled clothes.

"Calm down, Jim," he said, for the man looked scared stiff. "We only want a little word with you."

"Yes," added Doyle, turning round and leaning over the back of the seat to stare at their captive, "We have the feeling that you were not totally honest when you said you didn't know the man who paid you to grab me."

"Lying to us is one thing," said Bodie, in a menacing tone, "but lying to Mr, Cowley is quite a different matter. He doesn't like that at all"

"Really, I wasn't lying," protested Jim vehemently, "He contacted Toby to arrange things. I have no idea who he is, honestly."

Then a sudden thought occurred to him. It might just get him out of trouble.

"But I did see him," he said eagerly, "just two days ago."

"Where ?," demanded two voices simultaneously.

"Coming out of the snooker club in Bermond Street," replied the little man, relieved to think he might have got himself out of the bad books of these formidable two. "And it's a place where Toby goes sometimes."

"I think we need to have some words with Toby," declared Bodie.

"Yes," agreed Doyle quickly, "Sounds as if he's been holding out on us after all."

He glared at Jim.

"Right, where do we find him ? His address, please."

"Oh, no, I daren't." gasped Jim, "He'll kill me."

"He won't know," said Bodie, "If he says anything, we'll say we got it from the ones who picked him up last time."

"Which we can do," said Doyle, "but it'll be quicker if you tell us."

Faced with that, Jim gave in and furnished them with an address. They ejected him from the car, with the strongest warnings not to say anything to his brother.

It didn't take them long to find the address, but it was a wasted journey as there was no-one at home.

They returned to the car, rather disappointed.

"I know" exclaimed Bodie as he slid behind the wheel, "let's try the snooker club that Jim mentioned."

So they quickly turned around and made their way there. Their luck was in, for they found a parking place opposite the main door.

"I suggest you sit here and watch the entrance," said Bodie. "I'll stroll in and see if Toby is there."

Five minutes later, he slid back into the car.

"He is there," he reported, "But he's on his own at the moment, and I didn't see anyone about who might be our man."

"Let's hang on for a bit," said Doyle, "and see if anyone likely turns up."

Like his partner, he was hoping for some sort of break, but he wasn't very hopeful that this was going to help them. As time went on, he was starting to give up on the idea, and was about to suggest to his mate that they moved on.

Suddenly, Bodie nudged him.

"How about him ?," he asked, looking at a fellow moving towards the entrance. "He's about your build."

"So what," said Doyle grumpily. "So are hundreds of others."

Bodie threw his partner a surprised look.

"What's up with you ?," he demanded. "You want to find the man who impersonated you, don't you ?"

"Of course, I do," retorted Doyle, "But you seem to be clutching at straws."

"I've got a feeling about this one," replied Bodie, sliding out of the car, and moving off.

" I'm going in to see if he knows Elson." Be ready if I call," were his parting words as he hurried across the road.

Doyle slumped back in his seat. He appreciated His partner's keenness, but thought that this was a waste of effort.

A sudden 'bleep' from his phone startled him. He sat up quickly and responded. It was Bodie, and he sounded excited.

"I was right," he said, "He's with Elson, and they are mates and clearly thick as thieves." There was a short pause, and then some urgent words.

"They are on the move. Let's grab them and take them to Cowley. I'll take Elson. You collar the other one."

Doyle, suddenly alert, was already on his way out of the car. He shot across the road, and was just in time to move into the way of the man coming out of the entrance'

If he had had doubts before, these were quickly dispelled by the sudden look of recognition that flashed into the man's eyes.

Bodie's instinct had been right !

Doyle didn't as yet know who the man was, but undoubtedly, he was the man who had impersonated him, and almost ended his career.

Recovering from his first shock, the man reacted quickly.

He lunged forward, pushing Doyle out of his way, and took off down the street. Momentarily off balance, Doyle recovered and set off in hot pursuit, catching him before he reached the corner.

Although the man was, as Bodie had said, of similar build, he didn't have Doyle's skill or agility. So it didn't take Doyle long to deal with him. Holding him in a firm half-nelson, he swung him round and pushed him back along the road towards their car.

Meanwhile, Bodie was coping with Toby Elson. Having been a boxer, the man was much more Bodie's size. But he had been retired for some while, had put on quite a lot of unhealthy weight, and was distinctly flabby. He did attempt to put up a fight, but Bodie countered every move easily, and soon had him held fast. He also pushed his captive towards the car.

A grin lit his face as he saw his partner was doing the same. Surely this would please Cowley. Now their boss might get some of the answers he was seeking.

The pair were pushed into the back of the car. Doyle shot into the driver's seat and started the engine. Bodie beside him, was using the phone to report in their success. They were told to go straight to the Interrogation Centre. Their boss would join them as soon as he could.

{t didn't take them very long to reach the Centre and park their car. They got their prisoners out, and drove them into the building, hustling them down the stairs and into a convenient interrogation room. It held a table with two chairs, and they pushed the pair into them.

They created an atmosphere by staring grimly at the pair, without saying a word. It had the effect they wanted.

Neither Elson nor Ryland uttered a word either, but the seated pair looked very nervous and subdued. They knew that Cowley would soon be here, and Elson knew that he had already made the big mistake of lying about their involvement. Cowley didn't like those who lied to him !

He jumped visibly when the door opened and Cowley entered, closely followed by a quiet man who went unobtrusively to stand by the back wall.

Cowley glared at the two prisoners for a moment, then very slowly and deliberately took the seat opposite.

"We meet again, Mr. Elson," he said. The words were innocent enough, but the tone was far from friendly, and Elson quailed inwardly.

"We don't know your friend's name yet." He continued, transferring his gaze to the other man.

He gave an almost imperceptible nod to the quiet man at the back, who stepped forward, and before his victim realised what was happening, a hand had come over his shoulder, slipped inside his jacket, and extracted his wallet, tossing it deftly into Cowley's hands.

But as Cowley was scanning it, and picking out the name, the hand withdrew, but not before it had brushed firmly across the man's collar and the back of his neck.

Startled, the man swung round.

"What are you doing ?," he exclaimed.

"Nothing to harm you, Mr. Ryland," said Cowley amiably, "just collecting a few stray hairs which I'm sure will match up with those Forensic took from Doyle's jacket that you so kindly returned."

Doyle threw a slightly puzzled look to Bodie. The last they had heard was that Forensic hadn't found anything useful.

"And they will match, won't they," he declared firmly.

He flung a quick look over his shoulder towards his two agents.

"Meet Tim Ryland, your impersonator, Doyle." he said.

Tim Ryland sagged in his seat as he pocketed the returned wallet. He accepted what Cowley had said and realised that it was no longer any use protesting innocence.

"So !, " he said defiantly.

"Impersonating a police officer is a very serious offence," declared Cowley.

"But you're not police," Ryland blurted out hurriedly.

"Very true," admitted Cowley. He smiled as he said it, but instead of re-assuring Ryland, it struck real fear into him.

These were hard men, who played by their own rules. There was no saying what they might do.

He decided that the best they could do was to co-operate fully.

"Next question," continued Cowley, "Since it is hardly likely that you 'snatched' Frampton for your own amusement, who set it up ?."

"Malmerston, of course," replied Elson instantly.

In earlier days, he would have been too scared to 'grass' on such a powerful man, but it was different now he knew that the man was dead and his previously powerful empire was falling apart.

"I think we might have guessed that," said Cowley. "So what did you do with Frampton ? What happened to him ? Did you kill him ?," he snapped

Instant protests came from both men, startled by the sudden fierce tone of voice.

"No, we never touched him," said Elson. "We took him to one of Malmerston's places, and a couple of his men took him from us. They paid us off and left with him."

"Honest," said Ryland, looking scared," We don't know what happened to him after that, really we don't."

Elson realised that to be helpful might be in his best interests.

"I think I heard one of the men call his mate Lefty," he volunteered.

"Lefty Craig, maybe," said Doyle. "He was one of Masterson's top men. But I haven't seen him about lately," he added thoughtfully.

"Well, that's one lead that could be followed up," commented Cowley.

He stared thoughtfully at the two men in front of him. They had given him the answer to one of his questions, but he doubted that they had anything more to give him.

Abruptly he turned on his heels, and led his two agents out of the room. He faced them in the corridor.

"I don't think we'll get any more out of them," he said, "and we can't really bring charges against them. I'll let them cool their heels overnight and then turn them loose."

Bodie and Doyle had to accept this decision. It made sense after all. Hopefully the pair would be so cowed by their experience that they would keep a very low profile, at least for a while.

Their boss continued with his orders.

"Tomorrow, you two can see if you can find this Lefty Craig. We might get more out of him."

So the following day, Bodie and Doyle set out to find Lefty Craig, thinking it would be an easy job. To their surprise, they found it wasn't so.

Nearly every villain they spoke to knew the man, of course, for he had been one of Malmerston's top men, and as such, had thrown his weight about a bit. But he seemed to have disappeared from the scene.

. Nobody recalled having seen him for quite some time.

They did get a possible address from one snout, but when they went there, they found it was a rented flat in a large block.

The current residents had only been in for a week, and had no idea where the former tenant had gone.

After a tedious and unproductive day, they took their report back to Cowley. He gave it quick consideration, and then decided that it wasn't worth wasting the efforts of his top team any further.

There were far more important things for them to do.

But, two days later, one of the new men came in early, looking for Ray Doyle. He found him in the duty room, making himself some coffee.

Being very new, the younger man was still slightly in awe of the senior men and their reputations.

"Mr. Doyle, sir," he began, "I think I have some information for you."

Doyle swung round and smiled encouragingly at him.

"Great," he said, "go ahead, Weston."

Surprised and pleased to find that one of the top men had remembered his name, Weston hurried on.

"Last night," he said, "I met a contact who had just returned from holiday. He had heard we were looking for Lefty Craig."

"And he knows where he is,?," snapped Doyle eagerly.

"Yes, sir," said Weston, "but he said we'd better be quick."

Doyle looked puzzled at this, but the young man hurried on to explain.

"He's in a hospice in Stepney, listed under his proper name Craig Chambers," he finished firmly.

"Well done, Weston," replied Doyle, "That's a great help."

The young man left to get on with the day's assigned task. He felt quite pleased to think he had helped one of the top men.

Doyle finished his coffee, as he waited for his partner, who has called in to say he was temporarily stuck in a traffic-jam.

He seized the opportunity to speak to Cowley, to bring him up to date on this new information, being very careful to give the credit to Weston. He then went on to find the correct name and address of the hospice in Stepney.

So when Bodie eventually made it in, fuming because he had been delayed so long, he found his partner ready to go on the next step of the on-going enquiry.

"Come on, mate," he greeted him, "this might be our chance to get the answer to the last of Cowley's queries."

It didn't take them very long to reach their destination. They were admitted and ushered into a small office.

A tall formidable lady rose from behind her desk, and stepped round to meet them. She eyed them up and down, and her expression was hardly welcoming.

Bodie produced his I.D., and asked politely whether they might have a few words with Craig Chambers. She re-acted slowly.

"You're not going to upset him, are you ?," she demanded. "We like our patient's last days to be as calm and peaceful as possible, and he hasn't got long to go."

Doyle moved forward and turned on the charm.

"We only need to ask him a couple of questions," he said, smiling at her. "If he knows the answers, we'll be on our way quickly."

Her attitude softened visibly.

"Well if that's the case, I'm sure it won't hurt," she said.

She moved to the door, and ushered them out, leading them down the corridor towards the back of the house. She tapped on the door, and showed them in.

"Be gentle" she said as she left them.

Chambers, clad in pyjamas, dressing-gown and slippers, was sitting in a large comfortable wing-back chair, close to a window, giving a view of pleasant gardens. Once a large, strong man, he now looked frail and weary.

His eyes had been closed, but now he opened them, looked at his visitors, and scowled.

"You !," he exclaimed fiercely, though his voice was not strong. "You lot never give up, do you. Can't you let a man die in peace ?"

Doyle felt a twinge of pity for this wreck of a once powerful man. Not so his partner.

"Tell us what we want to know," snapped Bodie, "and then we'll go."

"I never was a 'grass'," said Chambers reflectively, "But then it hardly matters now, does it ? Nothing matters now," he added bitterly.

Doyle spoke more gently than his un-forgiving partner.

"We only want to know what became of Frampton," he said.

Chambers threw him a rather surprised look.

"Oh, he's long gone," he replied. "I thought you would have guessed that."

"Well, after all this time, I expect we did," retorted Doyle, "but we'd like to know details of what happened."

"When we grabbed him," explained Chambers, "we took him straight to Masterson's place. He was in a very wild state. He started shouting and arguing with Masterson, who lost his temper and was yelling back at him. Then all of a sudden, Masterson pulled out a gun and shot him dead."

Doyle exchanged glances with Bodie. This was just the information they had hoped to get.

"Where's his body ?," demanded Bodie.

"Oh, you won't find that," said Chambers. "Masterson had a boat and he took us out in that. We dumped the body, well-wrapped with a length of anchor chain, somewhere in the North Sea."

Bodie slipped in a last question.

"I suppose Masterson arranged Corelli's 'accident' too ?," he asked.

"Course, he did," replied Chambers. "the man was becoming a nuisance, shooting his mouth off too much."

He glared at Bodie and Doyle.

"Well, are you satisfied,?," he snarled. "I've told you all I know."

"You've been helpful," said Doyle, "we'll leave you in peace now."

He quickly pushed his partner towards the door, and they left.

The warden was waiting by her office door and showed them out.

They went back to the car, feeling quite pleased with what they had just achieved.

As they settled into their seats, Bodie had a comment to make and he was quite jubilant.

"The Cow wanted someone to 'scratch his itch'," he said, "and I think we've managed it at last."

"I hope he is satisfied," added Doyle cheerfully, "and we'll get a bit of peace."

They hurried back to base, eager to write their report and submit it to their boss.

At long last, he would be able to sign the file, CLOSED.

"I think we've earned a night out, "said Bodie happily, "Who can we honour with our company ?."


End file.
